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Fanon Con Presentation
Zenith is curerntly mid-way through production. Episodes begin coming out weekly on September 9th, 2016. SKETCH OF SIN.jpg|Sketch of Sin (Episode 1) CONQUER.jpg|Conquer (Episode 2) SON OF THE DEMON.jpg|Son of the Demon (Episode 3) CONSUMED.jpg|Consumed (Episode 4) ISOLATION.jpg|Isolation (Episode 5) MORNINGSTAR.jpg|Morningstar ( Episode 6; Midseason finale ) Now, here is a sneak peek for episode 1, Sketch of Sin, exclusively for Fanon Con!: Corbus stands behind Chandler and Colbat, who were stuffing non-perishable food items into their bags. Corbus: After all these years, why is this shit still good? Chandler: Don't question it. Just eat it. In the old days, we learned the hard way. We ate whatever we saw and discovered the truth. Expiration dates don't mean nothin'. Colbat: This planet came out of a devastating ice age only a thousand years ago. Corbus: How do you know? Colbat: My father told me. Corbus: Where the hell is he now? Colbat: Dead. There's silence for a few moments. Chandler: There's some more food over here. Colbat shuffles over to another aisle, stacked with food. Chandler scoops some more into his backpack. Chandler: Let's leave some, for others. We aren't the only ones who need to survive. Colbat nods, pleased. Corbus: Stop being such an asshole. We're taking the damn food because we need to eat. We have mouths to feed back at home. Chandler: Shut up. He mutters slightly, realizing he didn't want to pick a fight. Not now. He was in front of this man who dedicated so many years to helping Chandler through these issues. Colbat looks at him, nodding, which meant Chandler needed to keep his cool. Colbat takes half of the supplies remaining on the shelf and stuffs them into Corbus' backpack. Colbat: There, we good? Corbus: No, hold on. You honestly expect some creature to just walk up to us, to fucking thank us for the food we left them!? No. At least, I don't. This is stupid. No food is starvation, and then we turn on each other. Is that what you want, because I will gladly keep all this food to myself if you two don't want to take it. Your call. His voice raises as he speaks as Corbus' tone grows angrier with every word. Chandler squeezes his knuckles. Hard. They look to be popping out of his skin as they furiously whined into a bright, white color. Then, Chandler's eyes flip shut. He inhales through his nostrils, breathing gently out of his parched, bloody lips. His calmness angers Corbus. Corbus: Come on! Do it! Hit me. Take a swing. Let it all out. I'm an asshole, a piece of shit, but I really don't give a damn. This is your chance. Take a swing. Show me what you're made of. Corbus mockingly puts his hands up, as if he were to surrender to Chandler's force. Through his body, Chandler was filled with built up frustration from this man. As he begins his calming down ritual, Chandler turns, walking out of the aisle. Colbat faces Corbus. Colbat: Stop your taunting and jeering. Corbus: Or what? Colbat: I'm not asking. Corbus: What is so wrong about wanting to get shit done? I'm thinking about the best for Zenith. Not about this zen "all life deserves a chance" bullshit. This is survival. We do what we have to so we can see another day. If you don't want that, you're stupider than I thought. Chandler grins weakly, reflecting on the words he just heard. In silence, the two follow Chandler, who now seemed to be an the technology aisle. Rows of broken items, stripped of their parts, lay dangling off the shelves as others are rusted completely. Out of the corner of his eye, which sweat was dribbling down, Colbat spots a large rectangular box. Colbat: There! Chandler and Corbus turn, as they both were in front of him. Chandler slumps down his gun and inspects the box. Chandler: The hell is this? Colbat: A battery pack. At least, it seems to be. Corbus: Take it. I'm sure Dagon or Shiloh could use it for something. Chandler shakes the box a little, hearing the rattle of some interior wiring. Corbus: Hurry up. Chandler picks it up. It was a little heavy, but Chandler manages to shove it inside a large bag, which he swings over his chest, the strap connecting the ends of the bag, looping his chest. Corbus hurries forward down the aisle. Colbat and Chandler linger behind Corbus, shuffling slowly. Colbat: You're staying calm. That's good. Chandler: I don't like him. Colbat: Animosity kills. Chandler: So does betrayal. And if someway our deaths benefit him, he won't think twice before pulling the trigger. Colbat: You might be right. He might sell us out for a quick buck or so, but that hasn't happened yet. You can't judge someone for something they haven't done. Chandler starkly refutes Colbat's statement. Chandler: No one can judge anything when there's a bullet in your brain. Colbat: That's true. Colbat notices the absence of Chandler's staff. Colbat feels his own staff, tucked away, pocking out of his backpack. Colbat: Where's your staff? Chandler: Must've forgot it at Zenith. Colbat: You know, you use to love that thing. Always were training with it, fighting...you have taken a swerve, Chandler. You were in the light and you're slowly going down into darkness again. When was the last time you practiced your staff rituals? Chandler's expression turns grim as he spits then inhales. The words spoken mellifluously from Colbat's lips echo through his mind, angering him, saddening him, filled him with other emotions as it builds up. Chandler: A few months. Colbat: We can practice together, when we get back to Zenith. You need the practice. Chandler's boiling emotions lead him to snap. Chandler: What are you? My father? I don't need this, I don't need you. Chandler thrashes his backs onto the ground as he storms off. He was breathing very heavily, looking deeply troubled. Colbat looks dumbfounded, awed, and despaired. He and Chandler learned so much from each other the past few years. They were best friends. Why has he suddenly changed? Colbat sighs, scooping up Chandler's bags. '' ''